The Soldiering Way
by netgirly2k
Summary: The Ninth Doctor and the Brigadier have a quiet chat over a cup of tea.


Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart strode towards his office, the young private on guard snapped to attention as he passed, good man. It had been a quiet day at UNIT HQ, as it usually was when the Doctor was away, and the Brigadier was hoping to use the rare peace and quiet to catch up on his reports for Geneva. He began to realise that this was a vain hope when he opened the door to find a man already in his office.

"What the devil are you doing in here!?" he demanded. The man was not one he recognised; he was dressed all in black with bulky leather coat. He had short dark hair and very pronounced nose and ears. He stood when he realised that he was no longer alone and the Brigadier noted that he was a lot taller than he'd looked slouched miserably in the chair.

"Not being offered a cup of tea. You want to have a word with your staff, you call this hospitality?" The man smiled a too wide smile which looked unconvincing on his pale, gaunt face, clashing with the heavy shadows under his bloodshot eyes. He opened the door and called to the young guard, "two cups of tea, eh, Private?"

He made his request with such authority that the soldier turned and briskly marched towards the canteen. The Brigadier made a note to reassign him to a less responsible position, possibly Miss Grant could use an assistant.

"Who exactly do you think you are?"

"I think I'm the Doctor," he slumped back into the chair across from the Brigadiers desk giving the impression of sitting before he fell, "definitely will be if I can get this regeneration to work out."

"Good Lord, man. What happened?" the Brigadier asked, then, alarmed, "what about Miss Grant, is she alright?"

"Jo," some emotion that he couldn't place flickered in the Doctor's dull eyes. "I haven't thought about Jo for years. Decades even. I always meant to go back and see her, always meant to go back and see all of them. Don't suppose I can, not now. How would I ever be able to look any of them in the eyes after what I've done?"

"Doctor," the Brigadier warned. He was convinced that this man, who kept slipping in and out of a Northern accent, was the Doctor. And he didn't make anymore sense than any of his previous incarnations had.

"Don't worry about Jo; she's just gone for a quick jaunt around the Milky Way." He glanced at his watch, "she'll be back a week on Thursday, with your scientific advisor just as you remember him. Me, I'm just visiting from a couple of centuries down the line. Shouldn't really, but it's not like there's anyone left to tell me what to do."

The young private, Jones, returned with a tray of tea. He looked nervous, as if he'd been reconsidering the wisdom of obeying an order from a stranger outside the chain of command. The Brigadier nodded at him and he deposited the tray on the desk and left.

The Brigadier poured two cups of tea, handed one to the Doctor and took his own seat. "Now Doctor, tell me exactly what you are talking about?"

For several minutes the Doctor said nothing, just sat drinking his tea and gazing at the cracked plaster of the wall behind the Brigadier. For his part the Brigadier leaned back in his chair and sipped his own tea, many years of dealing with this particular brilliant and infuriating individual had taught him that there was nothing to be gained from trying to force the Doctor to explain before he was ready.

"D'you know, I'd forgotten," the Doctor said thoughtfully, staring into his cup.

"Forgotten what?"

"This tea, it's awful." The Brigadier smiled at that, the Doctor was quite correct, the tea from the UNIT canteen barely even qualified for the name. Miss Grant could just about make it drinkable, something that alone justified her employment.

"I didn't have a very high opinion of soldiers when I was here before," the Doctor said, suddenly changing tack.

"Yes, I had noticed." The Brigadier was a great believer in the healing power of tea and it certainly seemed to have done the Doctor the world of good, there was some colour in his face now and it no longer seemed like the chair was the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor.

"I never really had the stomach for killing. It's amazing what you find yourself capable of when it's your own world you think you're protecting."

"Doctor, what's happened?" the Brigadier asked, genuinely concerned, this man seemed so unlike the Doctor he knew.

"Have you ever killed anyone, Brigadier?" the Doctor said, answering a question with a question.

"I'm a soldier."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"The Brigadier took another sip of his tea; it tasted even more bitter than it usually did. Yes, Doctor, I've killed men. When I had no other choice"

"I've destroyed planets," the Doctor said simply. He stopped, waiting for a response, when none was forthcoming he continued, "I told myself that there was no other choice, as well."

"Did it help?"

"No."

The Brigadier thought of all the good men who were no longer here because he couldn't save them, because he was only human, could only do his best. "No, it never does. What happened?"

"There was a war. I was a soldier," a dark smile flitted across the Doctor's face, "a good one too, you'd have been surprised."

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't come here for your sympathy, Brigadier," if the Doctor was angry it couldn't be heard in his voice. He just sounded tired, more tired than the Brigadier could imagine being.

"Why did you come here, Doctor?"

"To tell you, the war..."

"It's not coming to Earth?" The Brigadier asked wearily, wasn't there some other planet out there that aliens could invade?

"No, the war's finished." he looked at his watch, "in fact, in about three and a half hours it'll never have happened."

"No invasion for once?"

"For once," the Doctor confirmed. "The Time War never touched Earth. I went to great lengths to make sure it was protected. Stupid, seeing as I couldn't even save-"

"Who couldn't you save, Doctor?"

"Who, that's so human. Running around on your stupid tiny planet, living inside your stupid tiny heads, like it'd have to be a person, like you can't imagine losing anything bigger, anything more important than one little individual."

"You seemed to have gone to some lengths to defend this 'stupid tiny planet', Doctor," the Brigadier kept his voice even. It seemed that regardless of species men returning from war were all the same, prone to heated outbursts that they didn't really mean. Nothing was to be gained from getting angry in return.

"Sorry, this regeneration, I've been having a bit of trouble with it. It's getting better now, the tea helped. Thank you."

The Doctor dragged himself up out of his chair and extended his hand to shake the Brigadier's, "go home early, kiss Doris, tell her you love her."

"How do you know my wife's name?"

"You told me. Are going to tell me."

"You came all the way here to drink tea and talk about my wife?" The Brigadier tried not be incredulous, this was the Doctor he was talking to.

The Doctor's grip on the Brigadier's hand tightened and his eyes desperately searched the Brigadiers face. "You humans, you just don't get it, do you? Food and telly and love and heartbreak and gardening, that's everything, that's all there is since-"

"Since?"

"The Time Lords are gone, all of them. Dead," said the Doctor. The Brigadier got the distinct impression that was what he'd come to say all along.

"The war?"

"We lost."

"You can't win a war, Doctor, you can only beat your enemies."

"I did that too." Before he could ask the Doctor to elaborate the Time Lord had withdrawn his hand, plastered the unconvincing smile back on his face and clapped the Brigadier companionably on the shoulder.

"Best be off, make sure you don't tell me about this when I get back with Jo. I don't much fancy having to live with this before I have to, and I've got a train to catch."

"Train, you didn't come in that infernal contraption of yours?"

"You never did like the TARDIS, did you? No, she refused to land too near a time and place she'd been before. I had to park her in Manchester, might have been a mistake, think I'm picking up a bit of an accent."

"Take care of yourself, Doctor."

"Take care of the Earth, Brigadier."

"Of course," the Brigadier replied. But the Doctor was already gone.


End file.
